(by George Jones)
I can hardly stand the sight of lipstick
on the cigarettes there in the ashtray.
Lying cold the way you left them,
but at least your lips caressed them
while you packed.
Or the lip print on a half-filled cup
of coffee that you poured
and didn't drink.
But at least you thought you wanted it
which is so much more than I can say for me.
REFRAIN
It's been a good year for the roses
Many blooms still linger there.
The lawn could stand another mowing
it's funny, I don't even care
But as you turned and walked away